


"Lick my boots"

by de_sidera



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: Boot Worship, Foreplay, Foreshadowing, M/M, Oneshot, What-If, accidental powerplay, power bottom friedrich, reluctant dom albrecht
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_sidera/pseuds/de_sidera
Summary: "Albrecht was like this. He touched Friedrich’s clear thoughts, and sensations, and memories, and turned them into riddles to be solved." A provocation becomes an omen.





	

“Aren’t you happy for me?”

“Of course I’m happy for you.”

There he was, his sturdy naivete more dazzling than any introspection.

“I just wonder if there was an alternative way to win.” Albrecht stiffly shook his head and turned away to the door where, thinking itself unseen, his frustration blindly muttered "lick my boots”. Everything good and bad about Friedrich frustrated him in those moments, he just…

“What?”

Too bad he had been heard this time. The blond hair touched the perimeter of his vision; a firm hand on his uniform, an amused, astonished smile prevented Albrecht from avoiding the responsibility of those words.

“I didn’t…”

“No, I heard you! Lick your what?”

The more embarrassed Albrecht became, the more Friedrich amused himself at the thought of making his friend’s pertness backfire. He thought it was all a game, all a game, and he’d always playfully emerge winner. He dragged his friend to a corner of the bathroom where no one could see, holding back laughs with the mock resolution to respond to the provocation, and dismissing the other’s barely audible but frantic gestures, oh stop joking, the pale skin blushing as that of a girl caught with her skirt raised – Albrecht’s mind was his innermost part after all - he looked ready to flatten and disappear inside the wall where Friedrich had let him go. Speechless with embarrassment, Albrecht covered his reddened lips with a pale hand and didn’t know where to look, as that chiseled back bent, a last laugh was muffled and silence made the wet flicker on the tip of the boot all too audible.

Silence is a maze where all can happen. They both entered it with eyes closed.

The lack of gripes from Albrecht didn’t sound like victory. The rules of the game were swiftly being changed by a part of themselves they couldn’t control or understand. Friedrich would go on nevertheless, fascinated and curious to see his friend’s attitude unintelligibly changed. He felt Albrecht’s gaze above him become heavier, his lithe kite-shaped chest – and many strange, seemingly unrelated ideas came to Friedrich’s mind. He thought about the big well-furnished house he had said he lived in – hardly imaginable by someone who had never seen one – let alone lived in one; how aristocratic the movements of Albrecht’s body looked to him, even when awkward, as if he was unfit for the fretting of war making; the gauleiter’s son, rich and powerful and superior by birth. Then, he lifted his eyes.

There was something strange. Albrecht’s eyes were ice cold blue. That integrity which shined in strength through his compassion and sensitivity when he saw pain and injustice, or at the mere thought of it… now clung to him alone, devoid of any other purpose but greed. The difference between one's fully clothed body and the other's became stifling. There was ice deep down in Albrecht. Otherworldly sternness, as that of the moth and the light - shining through his eyes, unearthed by desire.

Friedrich had no time to be scared or fascinated, because the ice melted into tears as Albrecht escaped to the door, just barely blocked again, muttering nonono, I’ll never be like that, never be like that, why don’t you understand, why don’t you ever understand, and running away with his guilt hidden between his thighs.

Albrecht was like that. He touched Friedrich’s clear thoughts, and sensations, and memories, and turned them into riddles to be solved. Why did it always have to be like this. Couldn’t the present not be a shadow of the future, and gestures not an omen. And that bewitching play just...

How long would he stay mad at him.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s my very very first fanfic. English isn’t my mother tongue so pLEASE CORRECT ME.  
> Albrecht must have had something ruthless inside to be able to commit suicide.


End file.
